


Soup

by Baratieblues (konimello)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konimello/pseuds/Baratieblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji's only helping because he has no choice, it's not exactly like he wants to be around an idiot who can't take care of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soup

"Open the shitty door, moss head, or I'll kick it in!" At the very least, Sanji's constant knocking should have annoyed his stupid neighbour into opening the door, even if it was only to fend him off. It didn't take long to find out Sanji was right; the door jerked open, a pale, sweating Zoro leaning against it.  
  
"What do you _want_ , cook?"  
  
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Such a lovely way to greet a guest, really, I-"  
  
"You're not a guest so just tell me why you're here," Zoro rasped. His lids were looking heavier by the minute and Sanji pushed past him into the living room before the green haired, earring wearing punk bastard could fall face first into the soup the cook was holding. Burns would be bad, but wasting the soup because some moron was too dumb to look after himself would be worse.  
  
"Sit down and shut up." He looked disdainfully at the dirty kitchenware coating every surface on the kitchen side of the room before glancing over to the living room - which was in just as bad of a state, if not worse, with tissues everywhere that takeaway boxes weren't.  
  
"Don’t tell me what to do in my own home, curly brow." Sanji ignored the glare shot his way but had to smile a little when Zoro flopped back down on to the sofa, haphazardly pulling blankets back over himself. At least he wasn't _completely_ stupid.  
  
The cook washed a few bowls, just so that _something_ in the flat was clean, and put his cooling pan of soup on the hob. It would last for maybe a few servings, if the idiot served himself normal people portions. Speaking of idiots with portion control problems…  
  
"Where's Luffy?" Maybe he shouldn't leave it all here, just in case - although it would be tiresome to come over to serve soup every time Zoro needed it.  
  
"Ace's. Think they're trying to quarantine me." Sanji gave a small chuckle - at least he didn’t sound like he was at the stage of horribly ill and hating life; that was good. "Why are you here anyway?"  
  
Sanji huffed in irritation. "If you ever paid attention, you shitty moron, you would see that I made soup."  
  
" _Why_  did you make soup?"  
  
Okay, so they weren't exactly friends, but Sanji wasn't going to just let the guy sit here in his own filth while he ate shitty takeaway food that wasn't helping him all that much if the cook could do something about it. It wasn’t personal, he just wasn’t going to let anyone who lived next door to him, especially not someone he _had_ to spend time anyway with eat that badly.  
  
"You kept me up last night with all of your shitty coughing; now I know that my room is right next to yours I’m almost tempted to move. Anyway I'm not having you responsible for giving me another shit night's sleep, so, soup. Are you allergic to anything?"  
  
Zoro blinked. "Wouldn't that have been better to ask before you made soup?"  
  
"I already know what _food_ you are and aren't allergic to, idiot." God knows he'd been forced to cook for Luffy enough in the six months he'd been living next door. Of all people to move into the flat next to him, it had to be the noisiest, most gluttonous pair of idiots. "I mean anything else; I have painkillers and medicine at mine but I'm not giving you any until I know it won't kill you."  
  
Sanji ignored the eye roll Zoro sent his way.  
  
"I'm not allergic to any of that crap. Stop mothering me, it's pissing me off." Zoro sank further into his nest of blankets. It looked like he was ready to retreat completely under them, but even the village idiot knew it wasn't worth hiding when he could be eating Sanji's mega amazing all-curing soup.  
  
"Say that again and I'll pour this down your throat while it's still boiling. Hey, you never know, your voice might not sound so damn stupid after that."  
  
A low growl started from the moss head's throat before it was interrupted by a cough. Sanji smirked.  
  
"Alright, take this fucking slow, I've seen how you eat." He inhaled the scent as he served up the soup; it smelt pretty great if he did say so himself. Sanji buttered a few slices of bread, before setting the bowl down heavily on the table.  
  
"Thanks," Zoro grunted.  
  
Sanji didn't bother replying. He returned to the kitchen area, rummaging around until he found a plastic bag. After rolling his sleeves up, Sanji ventured back over to the infected and dropped it on the table. "Clean up all this gross crap when you're done." He flicked a scrunched up tissue on the table with the tip of his boot, Zoro narrowly avoiding it.  
  
The swordsman shot him a look. "I'll clean up when I feel like it, _cook_. The hell you so bothered for anyway? You know, you're just gonna make yourself ill."  
  
Sanji snorted. "Yeah, right. I, unlike you, actually take _care_ of myself. I don't _get_ ill."  
  
"Neither do I!" Zoro defended himself. “It just fucking happened, okay? It's got fuck all to what I do with my life."  
  
"Okay, whatever you say. Because, you know, constant alcohol and eating shitty greasy crap and not eating your shitty vegetables unless I _force_ them down your throat is so good for you."  
  
"You can take your vegetables and go fuck yourself. I'm fine as is, alright?" Sanji arched an eyebrow. "Shut up. This is a one off. Anyway, you still haven't answered me, curly brows; why are you so bothered?"  
  
Sanji shook his head. What a moron. "I _cook_ here. Maybe not every day, although it feels like it considering how much Luffy drags me over." Sanji sighed, wishing for a cigarette. He let himself fall into one of the wobbly kitchen chairs, half facing Zoro's germ infested sofa. "Not to mention the fact that Luffy's expecting me to cook for a fucking _dinner_ party here on Friday and I don't want our guests or the food contaminated with your shitty disease. Do you understand me? Clean the fuck up and get fucking better."  
  
Zoro smirked and Sanji could help but look away. He didn't meant for that last sentence to sound like he cared, because he didn't. Shitty moss head.   
  
"It's still my apartment-"  
  
" _And_ Luffy's-"  
  
"So I'll clean up when I _feel_ like it. And it's not your damn kitchen either, so shut up about it. Hold the stupid dinner at yours if you're so bothered, it's not exactly like it's _far_.”  
  
It didn't matter if the idiot had a point there. "Luffy wants it to be here since it's the first time he can get everyone around at once, so tough luck. Do _you_ want to explain to Luffy why he won't have anyone cooking for it when he gets back? I'm sure as hell not going to cook in a place this fucking unhygienic, so you can suck it."  
  
Zoro set his empty bowl down harder than was necessary and was he _really_ going to treat Sanji's kitchenware that way when the cook was doing him a favour like feeding him and making sure he wasn't dying in a pile of his own filth? Okay, so maybe that was going a bit too far, but still, the stupid brute could show a little gratitude at least.  
  
"I don't _want_ you cooking here, your soup tastes like shit anyway," which was _obviously_ why he finished it all. "If you're going to tell me what to do in my own home then you can get out and take your shitty soup with you. I don't need this kind of crap right now." With that, Zoro leaned back and pulled the loose blanket over him, obscuring him from the cook's view. Sanji shook his head, grabbing the empty bowl and rinsing it under the sink before dropping it onto the drying rack. He honestly didn't know why he bothered sometimes, it wasn't like the idiot was even worth it.  
  
He paused for a second at the soup before turning back to the door. The guy may be an asshole, but Sanji felt bad taking away the only decent source of sustenance in the house because, let's face it, it wasn't like Zoro was likely to make himself any proper food any time soon.   
  
He sauntered out of the flat as if he'd never intended on staying, slamming the door shut. Mossy headed bastard, couldn't appreciate anything. Sanji pulled his own door open - no point having locked it if he was only going next door - and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. Halfway to his window (fuck the no smoking rule), Sanji paused. The painkillers and medicines that he had completely _not_  bought in case they would help that moron or anything lay on the table untouched. It would be kind of embarrassing to go back after that little exit, but the cook didn't exactly fancy having Zoro hacking his lungs out all night when Sanji needed to sleep, and certainly not while they were trying to have a civilised dinner party, so it wasn't exactly like he had a choice.  
  
Or he could just wait until tomorrow; that way he could check that the idiot was eating the soup, although honestly Sanji knew there wouldn’t be any question about that; it was about the best thing he'd be eating in the next few days, free, and easy as fuck to heat up. Annoyed or not, Zoro was going to take that chance to be lazy. Sanji knew him all too well, even if he wished he didn't.  
  
-  
  
The cook woke up even more irritated the next day. His sleep was interrupted yet again and considering he hadn't exactly had the best sleep the night before, _well_.  
  
It was half seven when he trudged over to the door next to his. He knocked obnoxiously loud, huffing at the lack of response. Sanji grabbed roughly at the handle, just in case and - yeah, idiot hadn't even locked it after Sanji left yesterday. He shook his head before letting himself in. The room was mildly cleaner than yesterday, which was more than he could have hoped for. Sanji was definitely disinfecting this whole flat before Luffy came back.  
  
"Oi, you awake, Zoro?" His yell was met with a low groan from the back of the flat and Sanji grinned as he made his way over to Zoro's room.  
  
" _Ugh_." Sanji saw the green head slink up from where blankets were covering a large shape. "The fuck?"  
  
"Morning to you too," Sanji replied with unnecessary cheer. He launched the plastic bag he held towards Zoro, narrowly avoiding his head. "Painkillers. The sooner you take them the sooner you can be up off your ass and clean up in here." The look on Zoro's face made Sanji chuckle for a second, but he couldn't keep it up for long. "Wow, you look even shittier than you did yesterday."  
  
"I feel it," Zoro grunted. He pulled himself up from the bed, letting the bag fall down the blankets as he pulled them tight her over his shoulders. Sanji watched as Zoro shuffled past him and slowly made his way to the kitchen.  
  
"Wow, okay, that's not rude at all. Just walk _right_ out of the conversation." Sanji followed him out of the room. "What are you doing?"  
  
"What, you expect me to dry swallow these? Not like they'll even do anything. If you're going to barge in here and insist on _helping_ the least you could do is get something decent strength."

"I feel so appreciated right now," Sanji said dryly. "Just stop complaining and take them, moss for brains. I'll get you your fucking elephant tranquilisers or whatever." He wasn't intending on giving him anything stronger, but that wasn't to say he didn't have anything else just in case. "Don't wreck the place while I'm gone."  
  
Sanji shook his head at the grunt he got in return. Moron didn't appreciate anything. Well, he might as well get everything out of the way with so that he didn't need to make any more visits; the placed made him feel ill just by looking at it. Sanji yanked the door open, slipping through and letting it fall shut behind him.   
  
 _Click_.  
  
Sanji stood there for a second before spinning on his heel and yanking the door handle. It didn't give.

"Did you just lock me out, you _bastard_? Oi!"  
  
" _Fuck off_!"  
  
"I was only helping, you mossy haired moron!"  
  
"I don't need your help, shit cook. And I don't need to hear your stupid voice first thing in the morning - who just breaks into someone else's flat at half _fucking_ seven?"  
  
"It's not breaking in if the door’s unlocked!" Sanji paused as someone emerged from the door on the other side of Zoro's, giving him an unpleasant look. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Just eat your soup and take your shitty pills and I won't have to be back," Sanji lowered his voice. There was no reply for a couple of minutes, so Zoro was either ignoring him or had retreated back to his bedroom. Whatever, it wasn't like Sanji was keen to spend any more time with a diseased idiot anyway.   
  
-  
He was going to kill him.  
  
He was going to kill that green haired bastard no matter _what_ Luffy said.  
  
Sanji thumped his fist against the wall as another violent cough made him hunch over. That bastard deserved to be kept awake for doing the same to Sanji for the last few days and getting him in this god damn situation.  
  
His throat felt like sandpaper and his eyes were losing all will to stay open. He knew colds were bad - Sanji had looked after enough people at various times of his life to see that - but he couldn't actually, in living memory, remember when the last time he had a cold was. It was just... Really fucking uncomfortable. That brute must have had some monster virus or something to infect him too - after being nice to him as well! Well, fuck Zoro.  
  
Glancing over at the empty glass on his side table, Sanji groaned. It felt like so much effort to get out of bed but his throat... Ugh.  
  
It took him nearly five minutes to get up the will to move, and another few to shuffle over to his sink. He considered just refilling it in the bathroom, but it was about time for Sanji to get something to eat anyway; it was nearly mid morning. Not that he even _had_ an appetite, but he wasn't an idiot. He still knew how to look after himself, unlike some people.  
  
Sanji nearly jumped at the sound of someone knocking on his door. He shot it a glare before turning back to the sink and gulping down his glass of water. It didn't particularly help, but it was _something_.   
  
He ignored the second knock, opening the fridge door instead. He was in no mood for human interaction. And besides, what if it somehow happened to be a lovely lady? He couldn't let them see him like this, with puffy eyes and a red nose. Absolutely not.  
  
"Oi, I know you're in there, swirly cook!"  
  
 _Ugh_.  
  
"What?" Sanji barked. Damn, his voice didn’t sound good.  
  
"Let me in."  
  
"And why should I do that?" It was that shitty moss head's fault that he was even _in_ this situation. On Sanji's list of people he least wanted to see right now, Zoro pretty much topped it. As usual.  
  
The door was silent for a moment and he almost thought that the idiot had left. There was a sigh, and Zoro's voice lowered as he replied.  
  
"Because I owe you?"  
  
Maybe Sanji was actually ill enough to be hallucinating at this point, because _ha_! As if he would ever hear those words from the swordsman's mouth. Now that was something he'd _love_ to get in writing, maybe wave it around his face a little, even frame it.  
  
"Did you die, shitty cook?"  
  
"Shut up, you... Ass for brains." He winced. Apparently having a fuzzy head did not help when coming up with insults. Whatever.  
  
Zoro still looked like crap when Sanji opened the door, but there was no doubt he was better than when they last met. The colour was returning to his face, and he no longer looked like he hated life. No, that was Sanji's expression now, and he considered kicking the moss head straight out of his apartment for this _curse_ he'd given him.  
  
"What happened to never getting ill?" Zoro smirked. The cook was ready to slam the door on him right there and then but Zoro's reflexes were quick enough to grab the door and push it open, keeping his weight on it so that Sanji, in this state at least, didn't have a chance of closing it again.  
  
"You better have a good reason for being here, or I swear-"  
  
"Okay, okay, chill out. I just... For the other day," he coughed.  
  
Sanji raised an eyebrow. Maybe the idiot was still just as ill as him, because he was making no sense.  
  
"I'm just here to pay you back," Zoro managed, looking pained just from the words. "Here." He pulled something out of a bag Sanji hadn't even noticed he was holding, which he thrusted at the cook. "Soup."  
  
Sanji started at the tin of sub-par convenience store chicken soup in Zoro's hand.  
  
And then he laughed.  
  
His lungs hurt, and Sanji could feel his cough starting up but it was just so... Zoro.  
  
"You know what, nevermind." Sanji reached out to grab Zoro's wrist before he could completely turn away. He knew his grip was weak as shit right now, but the swordsman was humouring him at least.  
  
"Thank you," he gasped through another bout of laughing and coughing. "I can't say this was expected."  
  
"Yeah, well. You got ill fussing over me, so. Whatever. Get better or some crap. Can’t cook for Luffy if you’re diseased." He held up the bag he was holding. "I brought the rest of that shit you left. Don't need it anymore."  
  
To be honest, he probably did, but… that was less shitty of him than expected. Sanji tried to keep in the rest of his laugh, but his lungs had other ideas as he kept choking.  
  
Zoro shook his head and pushed past the cook, plucking the tin back out of his hand and making his way over to Sanji's much cleaner kitchen.  
  
“I, ugh… I can’t believe I’m saying this. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but stop, _please_.”  
  
“I can heat up _one_ can of soup, don’t act like I literally can’t function in a kitchen.”  
  
A broken tin opener, an agitated swordsman and one bowl of shitty soup later, Sanji wasn’t feeling quite so miserable.  
  


 


End file.
